


Marlon Brando

by wicked_writings



Category: Slipknot
Genre: Angst, Homophobia, M/M, Public Display of Affection, Road Trips, Seedy motels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked_writings/pseuds/wicked_writings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But there it was. It was a three day journey to California, and he had to spend it shoved in a van with a bunch of band mates whose predilections for liking him seemed to depend on which side of the bed they'd woken up on."</p>
<p>Or, the one where Joey makes friend with angst, in a van.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marlon Brando

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of FICTION. As far as I am aware, this never happened (except in my dirty little mind, and you don't want to go there). I have no association with any of the people featured in this made-up story and I make no money from its publication. And yes, I am very ashamed.

_The road of life twists and turns and no two directions are ever the same. Yet our lessons come from the journey, not the destination._ \- Don Williams Jr.

 

Joey had his doubts about this journey. He wasn't going to voice them though of course, for fear of being left behind. Not that they could really leave their drummer behind, but sometimes the level of common sense in the band dropped below zero. 'Don't take shit' seemed to be their motto, but often it left them in it.

Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, except for him. He didn't really seem to have anything to do, and if he'd been given a job he'd forgotten it. He wasn't entirely sure what half the guys were doing – Shawn seemed to be the only person doing anything remotely useful. Of course, Sid could be doing something useful in the equipment trailer, but judging from the noise he probably wasn't.

He shifted awkwardly on the spot. He was excited, for sure, who wouldn't be after they'd managed to score a record contract with the biggest label in metal and a gig recording with one of its greatest producers? They'd finally made it, shoved their middle fingers up to the city of Des Moines, and they were on their way to _Malibu_ , of all goddamn places. But there it was. It was a three day journey to California, and he had to spend it shoved in a van with a bunch of band mates whose predilections for liking him seemed to depend on which side of the bed they'd woken up on.

Mick suddenly bumped into him carrying a road case, and owing to the significant size differences between the two, Joey found himself shoved too far off balance to recover. He sprawled onto the pavement, carefully coiffured hair flying everywhere and his hands crashing into bits of gravel. He sat for a moment, trying to regain his senses. Mick had tottered off with the road case, presumably to the trailer. He wiped his hands slowly, slightly embarrassed at having fallen over in front of everyone. He felt even more stupid than he had before.

“Jo, I'm sorry,” came a voice from behind him, and almost at the same time he felt a large pair of hands grip his waist. Mick pulled him to his feet and he swayed for a minute before he found his footing.

“It's ok,” Joey said, blushing, and glad Mick couldn't see his face. He looked down just in case anyone else could. Mick probably thought him enough of a dick already. “Uh, thanks,” he said, turning his head, but Mick had already gone. Figures.

“Come on!” Jim roared happily, clapping Joey on the shoulder so hard he nearly fell over again. “We're ready. Time to move, bud.” He kept going, hopping into the rented van Craig was driving. They'd hired three vans for the occasion, but he wasn't too sure which one he was supposed to be going in. Everyone else seemed to know though, so he decided to wait until they'd divided themselves up.

“Oi! Joey! Hurry up, you're with us!” Shawn yelled at him, waving out of the driver’s side window. Joey sighed with relief and picked up his bag before making his way over. He wasn't sure who else was in the van with them, and was blissfully unaware until he slid the door closed behind him and looked up. The van was positively overflowing with gear and bags. It was almost insane, the amount of gear they'd ended up needing to take.

The first two rows of seats were filled up to the roof. That left only the back row, which Mick – _Mick!_ \- was already occupying. Joey thought about taking the front seat next to Shawn, but a quick look told him the percussionist had already piled all his stuff on it. Joey hefted his bag up over his shoulder and stepped carefully over a hastily stowed road case before dropping himself in the seat next to Mick.

He wondered if they were going to be sharing the same van all the way. It wasn't as though he didn't like Mick – far from it. His crush had meant he'd had difficulties even talking to Mick lately, and being in such close quarters to him would only mean more awkwardness. The man in question didn't even look at him as he sat, just continued to stare out the window. And they hadn't even started the engine yet. Awesome.

Joey sighed and laid his head against the back of the seat. He wondered what the hold up was. Somebody had probably forgotten something, as per fucking usual. As he normally did in times of boredom, he stared at his nails. He'd painted them again last night, black of course, but the polish on the index finger on his right hand had chipped. Probably from falling over. He'd have to touch it up again when they reached their motel.

His hair was still a bit mussed, and he tried to smooth it down. His hairbrush was in his suitcase, which was in a van... somewhere.... so his fingers had to do. He was paranoid about his hair, and hated for it to be even a little out of place. He wasn't aware Mick had turned his head to stare at him until he happened to look over, just after he'd fixed his hair to his satisfaction.

He paused, slightly shocked that Mick had been watching him and he hadn't realised. It made him feel almost silly, being so fussy over his hair. That was probably why Mick was staring so intently. He almost withered under the glare, his voice frozen in his throat so he couldn't speak. When the engine started up and startled Mick out of his reverie he felt relief.

It had almost been a calculating stare. As if Mick was trying to decide something... but what? Maybe he knew. The thought made Joey slide down in his seat, embarrassed. He hoped he hadn't been too obvious. He did do a lot of gawking, he knew that. But he couldn't help it. If he had a crush, he had a crush. Big deal. Right?

He sighed and thumped his head against the seat. He was the only guy in the band into.... other guys. Not that any of them cared. In fact they seemed to accept it so well he sometimes thought they had some sort of an ulterior motive. It was an uncomfortable thought, and he decided to think about something else.

The van was moving though the quiet streets of Des Moines now, and Joey took one last look at the city he called home. While they weren't going away for long, it was a journey so exceptional and crazy he knew he wouldn't be the same person on their return. He wondered if any of the others felt the same way as him. He doubted it.

*

They had been driving for nearly 3 hours now, and still Mick hadn't said a word. Joey was more convinced than ever that Mick harboured some sort of dislike for him, and it was extremely disconcerting to know that he was going to be spending the next few days stuck in the same vehicle as him, trying to avoid eye contact and having to learn how to be silent. Especially when all he wanted was to know Mick better, and perhaps somewhat satisfy the crush that had been tormenting him for months.

They pulled into a nearly deserted truck stop, one that looked exactly the same as several others they'd passed on their drive, right down to the faded swinging sign hanging out the front. It was time to gas up and grab some food, and Joey took the chance to stretch his legs. The others were all laughing and chattering as they gathered on the forecourt, and Joey was well aware of the silence that he and Mick held as they approached.

But to his interest, Mick didn't perk up as they reached them. He stood at the back, that same blank look on his face that he'd been wearing since they left Des Moines. It intrigued Joey, and he had to consider that perhaps there'd been some sort of event in Mick's life the past few days that had caused it. Not that he'd ever get the opportunity to ask.

He loaded himself up with drinks and snacks and lumbered with his purchases back to the van. Mick hadn't arrived back yet, but Joey took his seat and sorted out his shit. He knew he ought to be ashamed about all the junk food, and as if to convince himself he hadn't really bought it he shoved it in his bag, out of sight. He'd eat all of it later.

People would tease him about how skinny and frail he looked, but it wasn't due to a lack of food. He just had a high metabolism. That, and he played the drums. That would make any person skinny. It might not have been a healthy one, but he sure had an appetite.

He watched Mick make his way back to the van. The look on his face had changed a little, as if he was slightly sad about something. Joey was curious, but his sense of propriety refused to allow him to ask. He would just wonder, and make up all sorts of crazy scenarios in his head instead.

Joey had to move to allow Mick to return to his seat, and he didn't realise it until Mick was standing in front of him. The guitarist just stared, through black sunglasses, but he stared nonetheless. Joey stood up, apologetic, but found himself with nowhere to go. He needed Mick to move backwards so he could slip into the row of seats in front, but Mick wasn't going anywhere. Joey supposed this was punishment for not waiting for Mick before he sat down.

In the end he settled for climbing back onto his seat, legs and all, and squashing himself as small as he could get so Mick could shuffle past him. It wasn't enough that he was the smallest person in the band, he had to be made continuously aware of it. Silently, he rearranged himself back into a sitting position and pulled a chocolate bar out of his bag. He needed to make himself feel better.

*

He drifted off to sleep somewhere near the Kansas border. In his dreams he didn't feel his head banging against the back of the seat with every turn and corner the van made, and he didn't see the man across from him watch him sleep.

*

The loud slamming of doors and raised voices woke Joey from his slumber. He stretched, his back stiff and sore from sleeping in a bad position. He groaned with the pain, screwing his face up.

“I would have thought your head would have hurt more,” he heard someone say.

His head snapped over to where Mick was sitting, watching him with a wry smile. He spoke again. “It spent most of the time slamming against the back of the seat.”

Subconsciously, Joey rubbed his head. Now that Mick mentioned it... it did feel a bit sore. He was still too sleepy to talk, and relaxed back against the seat, his hand still on his head and his eyes starting to droop.

“Come on sleepy head. At least let me out before you go back to sleep. We're at the motel anyway.” Mick was picking up his bags, and it seemed he wanted out. Joey found his bag and stuffed his things back in it before making his way out of the van.

Just like at Shawn's place before when they were getting ready to leave, it was disorganised chaos. Cash flow problems meant they could only rent 3 rooms, and considering each room had only a double and a single, there was some serious debating going on. Sid was threatening to sleep in the van, but considering it was the beginning of winter Joey seriously doubted he was going to follow through on that one.

He didn't really care where he ended up sleeping. Hell, he'd sleep in the bathtub if he had too. Ever since he was a kid, he'd had a prodigious ability to sleep when, and wherever, he wanted. It was a habit that tended to annoy the others, especially when they were unable to do the same. But he should have guessed that because of his size, he'd be made to share the double with someone.

Shawn came up to him. “We're sleeping in the same groups we're travelling in. Me and you got the double. Mick” - he pointed to him - “has the single. Get your suitcase. We're in room 34.”

Joey duly did as he was told. He found his suitcase and heaved it with him to room 34. It was small, dingy and dark. He shuddered at the thought of the cockroaches that surely had to be roaming around and vowed to sleep in his clothes. He dumped his bag and suitcase on the carpet, avoiding something that looked suspiciously like a blood stain. He winkled his nose at the smell, and thought about joining Sid in the van.

“Cheer up little one. We're only here for the night,” Mick said cheerfully, throwing his bag onto the single. It was alright for him – he didn't have to share a bed with Shawn. The guitarist headed for the bathroom, stopping to muss up the hair that Joey had worked hard to tame after his sleep.

“You fuss too much over your hair,” Mick threw over his shoulder as he slammed the bathroom door. Joey just stood there, hair sticking in all directions, wondering how the hell he'd managed to get a crush on a guy that seemed to enjoy taking the piss out of him. He hadn't been able to avoid hearing the condescending tone in Mick's voice, and felt his heart shrink in his chest.

*

Joey didn't feel like joining the others at the bar across the street. Perhaps he was tired, perhaps it was because of Mick's attitude to him. But he just didn't want to spend the night in the company of someone he adored but treated him like shit. Shawn came in to pick up a jacket, and spotting his drummer laying morosely on the bed, stopped to talk to him.

“What's up Joey?” he asked quietly, sensing something was wrong.

Joey shook his head. It was difficult considering he'd tried to bury himself in the bed. “Nothing,” he said, his voice muffled in the bed sheets.

Shawn refused to take that for an answer. “Bullshit.” He sat down on the bed. “Tell me what's wrong.”

Joey sighed. Shawn could be a persistent bastard when he wanted to, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to wriggle out of this one. He raised his head to look at Shawn.

“Why does Mick hate me?”

The look of surprise on Shawn's face surprised Joey. “What do you mean? He doesn't hate you.”

“It sure seems like it sometimes,” Joey muttered.

Shawn shook his head in confusion. “I don't get it. If he hates you so much, why did he ask for you to come with us in the van? Paul was supposed to, but Mick asked him to move.”

Joey stared at Shawn in shock. Mick had asked for _him_ to go with them in the van? It didn't make sense. Why ask for that and then treat him like a 5 year old? Was it a deliberate plan by Mick to have him close so he could be humiliated?

Shawn seemed to sense his thoughts. “Joey, he's not going to travel in a van for three freaking days with someone he doesn't like. Even if he had a master plan to spend his time teasing you. To be quite frankly honest, I think the reason he teases you is because he _does_ like you, and just doesn't want you to realise. You might want to think about that.”

Joey could only watch as Shawn left. The words burned into his head, and he heard them again and again. He refused to consider that Shawn might be right, but the _possibility_ was enough to make his heart race. He covered his face with his hands, not sure what he was thinking about. It was all a bit much. He fell asleep on the bed, his boots on his feet and lights still shining bright.

*

“Joey. Joey!”

Someone was calling out to him, disturbing his sleep. He was so tired, and he didn't want to wake up. He tried to go back to sleep, but still someone was calling his name. He opened his eyes reluctantly, blinking as he tried to keep them open.

“Whaaattt...” he mumbled, angry at having been woken.

“You're on my bed.”

Joey snapped his eyes wide open. He raised his head and found the light a little too bright for him, and ducked his head down again. Mick sat down at the end of the bed, leaning against the wall, just waiting.

“I don't see why you had to crash on my bed when you have an even bigger one over there.”

Joey didn't know either. He wasn't too sure why he'd decided to lie down on Mick's bed, and could only surmise that he'd gotten confused.

“Sorry,” Joey mumbled. He rolled off the bed, boots landing heavily on the floor. He stood for a moment, regaining his balance before staggering off to his own bed and promptly falling on that. After a moment he found the energy to make sure he was on his side of the bed, and then figured that since he'd already decided to sleep in his clothes he might as well go back to sleep.

His head was still foggy, and sleep was close when he felt someone sit down on the bed.

“Shawn?” he muttered, annoyed at a second disturbance.

“No. It's me.” It was Mick, and Joey couldn't think why he hadn't just gone to bed.

“What do you want?” Joey asked languidly. He knew what _he_ wanted, sleep.

“Nothing,” Mick said after a pause.

“Then why are you here? Is it revenge for me sleeping on your bed? I'm sorry, alright. Let me sleep.”

Mick didn't reply. Joey felt him rise from the bed after a moment, and thought that perhaps he'd gone back to bed. Then he felt gentle hands on his ankles, and realised Mick was taking off his boots. He didn't protest, just let him pull them off. He appreciated the gesture, though he was just too sleepy to say anything. He heard Mick put the boots on the floor, and waited for the sound that told him he was walking away.

There was nothing, but then there was a sudden pressure on the bed. Then there were lips kissing his cheek, a voice that whispered, “Good night,” and then boots on the floorboards.

*

Joey wasn't sure what time it was when a zapping noise woke him from his sleep. It was still dark, and judging from the silence it must have been early morning. Another zapping noise startled him, and the sudden blue flash that accompanied the sound make him look out the un-curtained windows. It was one of those insect destroying machines, and he let his body relax. There was no murderer waiting in the shadows to butcher them all.

He could hear Shawn beside him on the bed, snoring quietly. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light provided by the neon sign outside, he saw Mick's bulk in the bed opposite. He remembered the kiss Mick had uncharacteristically given him as he said goodnight, and he felt his cheek tingle in response. Perhaps Shawn had been right. Perhaps there was something there that Mick didn't want to say. He only wished he would.

He needed to go to the bathroom, and rolled as quietly as he could out of bed. The last thing he wanted to do was wake Shawn, because then there would be hell to pay. He found the door to the bathroom in the dark, and then cursed when the light refused to come on. He had to pee in the dark, which he never liked.

He'd just washed his hands when he turned to leave and nearly died of fright. Someone was standing in the doorway, framed from the light coming from outside, and his heart froze in his chest.

“Fucking hell!” he gasped when he realised it was only Mick.

“Sorry,” Mick said apologetically. “I didn't realise you were in here. Why isn't the light on?”

“Because it doesn't work,” Joey replied. Mick still had to try anyway, and he flicked the switch several times before coming to the conclusion that Joey was indeed right. For once, Joey wished he could take him for his word. He didn't like lying.

“Told you,” he muttered, before trying to push past Mick. He was grumpy and he wanted to sleep. To his annoyance, Mick grabbed him.

“What's up?” Mick asked, sounding somewhat concerned.

“Nothing,” Joey said, wishing he would let him go so he could collapse back onto his bed.

“Doesn't sound like 'nothing',” Mick pointed out, his voice calm.

Joey gave in. “It's you, that's what. Satisfied? Now let me go, I want to go back to bed.”

But Mick wasn't going to do anything of the sort. Instead, he shut the door to block Joey's exit and pushed him further into the bathroom. Despite the space, he didn't let go of Joey.

“What do you mean, it's me? Did I do something?” he sounded almost worried, and Joey began to feel bad.

“I'm sorry, Mick. It's more me than you, ok? I don't want to talk about it.” Joey had relaxed against Mick's hold, not wanting to fight anymore. To his annoyance, his head found Mick's chest and rested against it, despite him not wanting it to. His own body was fighting against him.

Mick pulled him into a hug. “Tell me, for god's sake.”

Joey rocked his head against Mick's chest. He was torn between telling him and keeping it locked inside, where it was probably safer.

“I don't want to say,” he mumbled eventually, finding Mick far too comfortable and warm to be hugging.

“I'm not going to let you go until you tell me,” Mick said gently.

Joey had the sudden thought that it wouldn't be so bad if he never told him. Feeling so vulnerable as he was, without even thinking he voiced his thoughts.

“That's a tempting offer,” he said, laughing hollowly.

He felt Mick hold his breath for a moment, and then knew he had to take the plunge.

“I like you, ok! And every day, you do things that make me feel like crap. I don't know what to think or say around you anymore. And I feel stupid, because you don't like guys, and I do, and I shouldn't even be thinking those things about you.” He took a deep breath to stop from crying. He felt Mick's arms tighten around him.

They didn't speak for a while, just stood in the bathroom, arms wrapped around each other. Joey wondered if he'd said the wrong thing, if he should have shut his mouth and gone back to the room.

Then he heard Mick sigh, and begin to speak. “Joey... I am so fucking sorry. I know, I know what you mean... but I never meant it, any of it. I never wanted to hurt you, I swear.”

Joey nodded, unable to say anything. The apology meant more to him than Mick would ever know. His arms tightened around Mick as if to say, “I understand.” And he did.

“Come on,” Mick whispered. “Go back to bed.”

Still quite sleepy, Joey obeyed, but missed the warmth of Mick's arms immediately. He left him in the bathroom, and tiptoed back into the room, sliding back onto the bed. Shawn rolled over and for a minute Joey thought he was awake, and was going to say something. But the silence ticked on, and he flopped his head back onto his pillow.

He was asleep before Mick crept silently back into the room.

*

Shawn wriggling around on the bed woke Joey up the next morning. He felt a lot better for the sleep, though the thought of spending another day cooped up in the van didn't appeal. He glanced over to Mick's bed, remembering their conversation in the bathroom the night before, but the rumpled sheets were devoid of human life.

Shawn was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, looking unnaturally groggy. Joey just shook his head and pulled on some fresh clothes from his suitcase.

“What time is it, Jo?” Shawn mumbled, barely awake.

Joey checked his watch. “Nearly half past eight.”

“Eight thirty.... eight thirty....” Shawn muttered, his hands covering his head. Joey just stared, and as he watched Shawn bolted upright, suddenly very awake. “Eight thirty. We're supposed to leave at eight thirty.”

Joey didn't really care. He shrugged, and then casually remarked, “Well, you might wanna get out of bed. I'm going to see if I can rustle up some breakfast.” He shoved his feet into his Converse shoes, bending over to do up the laces. He could hear Shawn getting up out of bed, and was glad he couldn't see him.

“What the fuck were you and Mick doing in the bathroom last night?” Shawn asked, his voice a little faded as he faced away from Joey. “Or, on the other hand, do I not want to know?”

Joey rolled his eyes and finished tying his laces. “Nothing. We just talked, that's all.”

“Oh. About what we were talking about yesterday?” Shawn had quit the joking.

“Yeah.” Joey sat still on the edge of the bed, not doing or thinking of anything.

“Well?” Shawn came to sit down beside him, thankfully dressed. He was peering at Joey, curious. “Any revelations?”

Joey shook his head. “He asked what was wrong, I told him I liked him and that I thought he was a jerk, and then he apologised.” Joey realised too late what he had just said. He sat up straight in horror, terrified about what Shawn was going to say. He looked at him cautiously.

To his relief, Shawn just smiled. “Joey, I kinda guessed. You don't need to be worried about anything. I'm not going to tell.” He clapped a hand on Joey's shoulder. “Come. Grab your stuff, let's go see if the others are up.”

*

As it were, Craig, Paul and Jim were still fast asleep, and it took several minutes of knocking and several yelled threats from Sid to wake them up. Joey just found a seat and sat after he realised there were no stores in sight. His stomach would just have to wait. Mick was nowhere to be seen, and Joey missed his company.

His feet didn't quite reach the ground and he swung them idly, bored. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall, not intending to sleep but finding the position comfortable. The others were chattering amongst each other and eventually all the voices droned into one, and the buzz faded into the background. The seat was hard but he didn't care.

Shawn was bemoaning the time it was taking to get away when Joey felt someone sit down beside him. He blinked open one eye and peered over, and then sat up, alert, as he realised it was Mick.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” Mick said cheerfully, passing over a bacon and egg baguette to Joey. He took it gratefully, his stomach rumbling with the smell.

“Oh shit thanks man. Where'd you find these?” Joey tore off the wrapping and bit into it. It was just as good as it smelt.

“There's a cafe about 2 miles down the road. I went for a walk,” Mick said.

Joey stopped chewing. “You walked for 4 miles to get breakfast?” he asked, his mouth full of food.

“Yeah well I was hungry... besides, I woke up early and I felt like a walk.”

“You could have taken a van,” Joey pointed out, resuming his eating.

Mick shrugged. “Like I said, I felt like a walk. Besides, if I'd taken a van you'd all have thought it'd been stolen. Or I'd absconded. Anyway, I'm back now. How is it?”

“Fucking good,” Joey mumbled, not bothering to swallow. “I was starving. Thanks dude.”

Mick chuckled. “No problem.”

Joey chewed on his baguette, watching the others as they lingered around the courtyard of the motel. It was then that he realised that Mick hadn't brought breakfast for them all. Only him. The thought made his stomach tingle, and he had to swallow quickly before he choked.

“You ok?” Mick asked, his tone concerned.

Joey nodded. “Uh, yeah. Just eating too fast, that's all.”

Mick laughed and hit him on the back a few times. “Best not to choke here. No-one will be able to save you. I doubt any of these idiots could put a band aid on without killing themselves in the process.”

That comment didn't help. Joey was halfway through through swallowing another mouthful and as he tried not to laugh the food went down the wrong way. He coughed and spluttered as he tried to sort out what had just happened. Mick just thumped him on the back harder.

“Thanks a lot,” Joey managed to squeak out as he recovered. “You just made me choke!”

“And proved me right. No-one moved a muscle.” He winked at Joey, who rolled his eyes.

Just then Jim, Craig and Paul stumbled out of their room with their bags and suddenly the band was on the move. Joey tossed his wrapper in the trash and slung his bag over his shoulder, picking up his suitcase. They loaded everything in the vans, Shawn promised to let the vans stop for breakfast for those who hadn't eaten, and then they all piled in for what promised to be another stellar day of driving.

*

More comfortable around Mick now after their conversation the night before, Joey sprawled out on his seat, legs extended in front of him. He smiled when Mick chuckled at him, and resisted the urge to poke out his tongue. He was being paranoid though of course, quite certain that Mick was sitting closer to him than he had yesterday.

True to his word, Shawn pulled into a block of shops about thirty minutes into their drive. Joey replenished his supplies, stocking up on water and junk food. He had to watch his money, because it was running low, but once they got to Malibu the record company would be paying for everything anyway. Mick cast a disapproving eye over his purchases, but considering he'd bought a box of pop tarts he couldn't really say anything.

“Brown sugar cinnamon!” Joey said when he saw the box Mick was holding at the check-out. “I like! Wait for me!” And then he went in search of brown sugar cinnamon pop tarts. Mick rolled his eyes.

This time, he was firmly ensconced in his seat when Joey trundled back. Joey didn't notice the sudden cessation of conversation between Shawn and Mick as he climbed in, too engrossed in trying to avoid death by amplifier.

“Got enough food?” Mick asked dryly, indicating the bags Joey held.

“Well, yeah... I think,” Joey said sheepishly. He shoved the bags out of sight and sat down, tearing open a chocolate bar. He saw Mick staring and held it out. “Want some?” he asked.

Mick declined, shaking his head. “No thanks. I was just marvelling at your ability to eat junk food so soon after breakfast.” His voice hadn't lost its dry tone.

Joey grinned at him through a mouthful of Baby Ruth.

*

Several hours later, the occupants of the van had descended into a languid and tired state. It wasn't quite 1pm, and yet they felt the desire to sleep. Joey tried to stop himself nodding off, but it was becoming harder and harder. He'd been left with a bump on his head from banging against the seat in his sleep and he didn't care to repeat the experience.

“Joey.”

It took a few moments to realise Mick was calling him. “Yeah?” he asked, turning his head to face him.

“You wanna lie down? You look really tired.”

It was the best idea Joey had heard all day. “Yes,” he admitted honestly.

Mick smiled and turned his body to face him. “Come here,” he said quietly, indicating that Joey should lie with his head in his lap. The drummer had no qualms about that, and settled himself down on the backseat. Mick was comfortable, and Joey tried not to think about connotations and suggestions and undertones and all that, because of course all he wanted to do was sleep.

He was starting to drift off into sleep when he felt Mick stroking his hair slowly. It was nice, and he had to resist the urge to make it known he wasn't asleep just in case Mick felt he had to stop. The soothing touch was relaxing, and without even realising it helped him ease into sleep.

*

Mick rested his head against the window, and despite appearances was paying no attention to the scenery flashing past outside. His hand still lay on Joey's hair, and he hadn't ceased the gentle stroking that had sent Joey to sleep. It was comforting him too in a way, though he would never admit it.

Like he'd told himself he wouldn't admit that his feelings for Joey had changed dramatically in the past year. He just hadn't counted on Joey feeling the same way about him. He was even more confused now than he had been when he'd first realised that he enjoyed Joey's company a little too much. He wasn't gay, and he'd never so much as hugged another guy without it being nothing more than a friendly arm around the shoulder. So why did he suddenly have the urge to try and get Joey into bed?

He remembered the first day he hadn't been able to think of anything else. Joey, being Joey, had shown up to practice in a black and white dress, black stockings and black Mary Janes. He looked hotter in that outfit than most women he knew. Joey had spent a lot of time touching up his makeup in the bathroom, and every time he'd come out Mick's heart had thunked a little louder in his chest.

He remembered too, with a flash of anger, the way one of Shawn's friends had reacted to Joey's outfit. Unlike Mick, he had no qualms about letting his feelings be known, and had openly flirted with Joey at practice. When he saw Joey start to flirt back, he burned with a jealousy he'd never experienced before. And when Shawn had casually mentioned to him a few days later that Joey had slept with his friend, he'd barely managed to contain himself.

He had tried to forget about Joey – which was impossible when he saw him every day. He'd ever tried dating other people – women, of course – but to no avail. He'd find himself thinking of Joey all night, and would never be able to bring himself to do anything other than give his hapless date a kiss on the cheek.

Then, to his shame, he'd turned to trying to reject Joey instead. Teasing him, putting him down... all because he'd been afraid someone would see through him and realise that he had feelings for Joey. It was stupid and childish, and he'd felt awful listening to Joey in the bathroom the night before. He was shocked to hear that Joey liked him, but he was too gutless to admit the same. Shawn had seen through him though. Knew what was going on in his head. He'd even asked him if he'd acted on it yet that morning in the van. Thankfully, Joey had turned up before Mick could say anything. But it was only a matter of time before Shawn badgered him again.  
And really, why shouldn't he? If Joey liked him he had nothing to lose having a go. He just had to swallow his pride and man up first. Which was easier said than done.

He sighed. He really didn't know what to do. The confidence that he had when picking up chicks had completely vanished. Perhaps it was because Joey was more than just a random potential date in a bar. He was his band mate, and as such, he had no right using and abusing him with a pick up line. He was the master of one night stands, but figured he wouldn't be able to get away with it in this case. And besides, he didn't want to.

“You alright, Mick?” Shawn asked, curious, from up the front.

“Yeah,” Mick replied, sounding somewhat morose at his situation.

“You thinking about Joey?” Shawn asked sympathetically.

“Yeah,” Mick said again, even sadder this time.

“He really likes you, Mick. Why don't you just go for it?”

“Because I don't want to mess up,” Mick said, surprised at the words coming from his mouth. But it was true. He didn't want it to end up with Joey hating him.

Shawn was silent for a moment. “I get your point. But it's worth it, isn't it?”

“God yes,” Mick said. “I just don't want it to go wrong.”

He could see Shawn's head nodding. “Fair enough. Maybe just take it as it comes?” he suggested, looking at Mick in the rear view mirror.

“Yeah. I think that's the way to go.”

They fell into silence again, and Mick resumed stroking Joey's hair. He liked having him so close, liked being able to.... _take care of him_. Though Joey was certainly capable of taking care of himself, just the fact that he was one of the youngest and most definitely the smallest member of the band meant that he had always been treated differently, by everybody. And Joey had never protested, so they never stopped.

*

Mick was jerked awake from sleep when they pulled into a truck stop for refuelling and food. Sid spent 10 minutes puking outside their van, and Mick decided to stay inside until he'd finished at least. Joey was still sleeping and he hadn't tried to wake him, so it wasn't like he could go anywhere anyway. His legs had fallen asleep about an hour ago and he could no longer feel them, but he didn't care.

He rested his head against the window and stared at the others as they came out laden with food and soft drink. It was a good thing he wasn't hungry and he had plenty of water or he might have been a bit miffed at not being able to go in. But then again, he found it hard to be annoyed at Joey for anything. The loud slamming of the door as Shawn hopped back in woke the drummer up. He blinked his eyes somewhat curiously at first, and then remembered where he was.

“Hey,” he said groggily, staring up at Mick. “What time is it?”

“About half past two. We have another 3 hours to go,” Mick said. “We're in the middle of nowhere. It's worse than Iowa.”

Joey laughed, and Mick felt himself smile. If Joey was happy, so was he. The van started up and Shawn followed the others out of the truck stop. The road out was badly maintained and covered in potholes, and as the van lurched from side to side Mick had to grab Joey to stop him falling off. Out of instinct Joey grabbed onto Mick's wrist, not wishing to end up on the floor. They bumped up onto the asphalt and Joey smiled when the van finally levelled out.

“You'd think they'd do something about those,” he said dryly. Mick laughed, though he didn't loosen his grip. He quite liked being able to hold onto him tight. He tried to cover it by pulling Joey further up onto his lap, as if he was still afraid he was going to slip. Joey complied happily. He didn't want to let go of Mick's wrist either, but he knew he'd look a bit silly still holding onto it, and let him go reluctantly. Mick seemed a little... disappointed? that he'd let go but Joey passed it off as surprise. Perhaps he'd forgotten Joey was holding onto him.

The next half an hour drifted by in silence. Joey didn't fall asleep again, but that didn't surprise him. After his long sleep last night and sleeping most of the day, he needed to spend a little time awake. It was so nice, laying on Mick's lap, that he didn't want to get up. He enjoyed being so close, knowing he might never get another chance.

After a while though, he started to get an ache in his back. Plus, he was quite thirsty and that bottle of water he'd packed was starting to sound quite inviting. Much against his will, he struggled upright. Mick realised what he wanted to do and helped him, sad that Joey was leaving but happy to get the opportunity to move his legs for the first time in several hours.

“You ok?” he asked as Joey wriggled into a sitting position next to him.

“Yeah,” Joey said, holding the small of his back. “My back kinda aches, that's all.”

Mick smiled. “I'm not surprised. Here.”

Trying to compensate somewhat for having lost Joey from his lap he pulled him closer, hands massaging his back. Joey sighed with relief, enjoying the touch.

“That help?” he asked quietly, watching Joey. The drummer's eyes were closed, his head tilted back. He looked beautiful, but Mick had to keep his mouth shut.

“Yes,” Joey hissed. He moaned softly as Mick's hands touched just the right spot, and the sudden resultant weakness sent him sprawling forwards, back onto Mick's lap. They laughed, and as they did Mick hoped Joey didn't mind him wrapping his hands around his waist. It was just to make sure he didn't fall off, Mick told himself. Perfectly innocent. To cover, he went back to massaging Joey's back. The drummer didn't seem inclined to move and Mick was perfectly happy for him to stay. It was nice, being so close to Joey like this. He smiled at him, pleased to see him smile back.

Somewhat more relaxed and comfortable now, Joey took the bold step of moving even closer to Mick, laying against him and resting his head in the crook of his neck. It seemed so right, and he was willing to risk Mick's anger just to see what it felt like.

Mick was quite happy. He pressed Joey even closer, running his hands up and down his back. They lay like that for a while, enjoying the closeness, though neither would admit anything. Mick idly kissed Joey's forehead, gratified to see the small smile that appeared on his face. Looking back up again, he spotted Shawn looking at them in the rear view mirror. Realising Mick had spotted him, Shawn smiled and winked. Mick couldn't do anything but smile back.

The scenery rushed past outside, but neither of them was watching. They were preoccupied with far more important things. Despite being so wide awake not so long ago, Joey felt sleepy again. He was so warm and comfortable, it was just a natural reaction. His back ache had eased thanks to Mick's massage, which helped him relax. His eyes were just beginning to close when he felt the van suddenly slow down rapidly.

“We stopping again so soon?” he mumbled, looking up.

Mick voiced the same question to Shawn.

“One of the vans has pulled off. I don't know why,” Shawn said. They braked suddenly and Mick had to hold on to Joey quite tight to stop him flying off the seat.

“Sorry,” Shawn said from up the front. He stopped the van then turned back to talk to the two at the back. “Stay here. I'll go see what's up.”

But of course, they were curious and Joey climbed off Mick's lap. They stumbled out of the van, Mick somewhat awkwardly, owing to his sleeping legs. The others were all piling out too, eager to stretch their legs. They'd stopped because Jim needed a toilet stop, but of course he wasn't the only one, and half of the others decided they needed to go too. Completely uninterested, Joey headed back into the van. He was annoyed that the nice cuddle he and Mick were sharing just a few moments ago had been interrupted by a bathroom break. Still thirsty, he pulled his bottle of water from his bag and drank. He drained half the bottle before taking a breather.

“Thirsty, huh?” Mick asked, raising his eyebrows as he climbed back on the van.

Joey smiled as he snapped the lid back on his bottle and put it in his bag. “Not anymore.”

Mick smiled back at him and waited as Joey pulled himself up on the seat to let him pass. Mick settled into his usual spot by the window and Joey, after pulling a packet of crisps from his bag, scooted over to sit next to him. He offered them to Mick, who took a handful.

The hours wore on and the wheels ate away at the miles. The sun began to fade and then sink over the horizon, and slowly the heat was sapped from the van. Joey started to shiver, wishing he'd remembered his jacket. He wrapped his arms around himself but it didn't help.

Mick noticed. “Shawn, can you turn the heaters on?” he called out. He wasn't cold himself, but he could see Joey was.

“Heaters don't work! Sorry!” Shawn called back.

Mick cursed. “We always get the cheap ones.”

Joey had to laugh. “It's ok.” But he didn't stop shivering. Mick wanted to do something for him. He looked around for a blanket and saw one that had been covering a road case in the seat in front. He tugged it free and wrapped it around Joey, who was grateful for the warmth.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Anytime.”

Joey shifted closer to Mick and rested against the seat, laying his head on Mick's shoulder. Now that he was getting warmer, the sleepiness began to return. He saw Mick yawn and smiled. He figured he wasn't going to be the only one falling asleep.

*

Sure enough, when they finally pulled into the town they were staying the night in, both Mick and Joey were fast asleep. Shawn had to call several times before Mick roused.

“What?” he asked sleepily, annoyed at being woken.

“We're in the McDonald's drive-thru. What do you and the midget want?”

“He's not a midget,” Mick said automatically.

“Whatever. Just wake him up and ask, will you?”

Joey had collapsed into Mick at some point and was half sprawled across his chest. Mick had a chuckle before shaking him awake. Joey appeared quite surprised at how he'd ended up but managed to giggle about it too.

“Orders!” Shawn called out. “We're nearly at the window.”

“Order? Window?” Joey said sleepily, rather confused.

“We're at McDonalds,” Mick said with a smile. “Do you want anything?

“Yeah. Food would be nice.”

“Well you have 5 seconds to decide,” Shawn pointed out.

Mick and Joey chose quickly and let Shawn relay the orders. Joey pulled the blanket back up around himself.

“What time is it, do you know?” he asked Mick. He never wore a watch, but he knew Mick did.

“Nearly half past seven. We're just getting food and then going to the motel, I think.” He sat up a little straighter. “Oi, Shawn! We aren't driving any further tonight, are we?”

“No,” came the reply. “Motel is only about 10 minutes from here.”

Joey breathed a sigh of relief. He desperately wanted a shower and hoped like hell this motel wasn't as disgusting as the one the night before.

They ate their dinner on the drive to the motel. Joey studied it as they pulled up – it looked moderately nicer than the last one, and he thought about not having to sleep in his clothes. Shawn parked and left them in the van while he organised rooms and keys. One by one the other vans pulled up and as the others climbed out they did the same. It felt good to be able to stretch their legs.

Joey tilted his head up to look at the night sky. “Look at the stars,” he whispered. Mick was standing next to him and raised his head. He didn't normally bother to study the stars, but Joey did have a point. The display was magnificent.

“Wow,” he breathed. “We don't get this in Des Moines.” Here, they were clearly far enough away from the industrial centre to avoid the smog.

Shawn's approach interrupted their study. “We have a problem,” the percussionist said grimly.

“What?” Jim asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Well, thanks for Mr Fantastic here” - he clapped an arm around Chris, who looked remarkably like a deer in headlights - “we've only booked 2 3 person rooms instead of 3. The rest of the place is booked out. We can either take the rooms or drive into the city. There's no more motels around here.”

Chris turned red once he realised his mistake. Shawn had only asked him to do one thing and he'd screwed it up.

“How far away is the city?” Paul asked.

“About 25, 30 minutes away according to the kid behind the desk.”

“You're kidding!” Jim voiced their collective surprise while a few others groaned.

“No way,” Corey added. “We've driven far enough today.”

They all agreed. They'd rather take the two rooms than drive another for another half an hour. Shawn headed back in to confirm while Joey wandered over to a nearby bench. Mick followed. They sat and watched the others linger in the car park.

“I've slept so much today but still all I want is a bed,” Joey admitted.

Mick chuckled. “Me too. A clean bed, I hope.”

“Me too! That place last night was filthy,” Joey said, shaking his head at the memory.

“Yeah. Anything would be better than that place.”

Shawn wandered back over just then with the keys. Mick and Joey stood up to gather with the others around him.

“So, there's one double bed, one single bed and one couch in each room. That means we'll have to have 3 people in one of the doubles.”

Joey sighed. He knew that because of his size, he'd be one of them. He looked around. No one was volunteering. Shawn decided they might as well just be told. “Joey, Sid and Corey in one double. Mick the single, Craig on the couch. Here's your key.” He threw it to Mick, who managed to catch it before it flew into a flower bush.

“Well, I suppose that's it,” Mick said to Joey. “Let's find our stuff.”

10 minutes later, Mick was pulling open the door to their room. The others stood behind him, trying to see in, but of course to no avail. Mick was just too big. He picked up his bag and suitcase and wandered in. The others followed.

“Well, it's not too bad,” Mick said with some sort of relief. It was certainly cleaner, and he could put up with close quarters for that. They dumped their bags on the floor and beds. Joey opened his suitcase and rummaged through for clean clothes.

“I bags the shower!” he said, and disappeared before anyone could protest.

“Well, there goes the hot water for the rest of the night,” Corey said dryly. The others laughed. Joey's long showers were notorious.

When he finally stepped out, nearly half an hour later, Mick couldn't help but stare. He knew it was probably pretty obvious, but he couldn't stop himself. Joey noticed, and just shyly smiled back. He'd taken the time to dry and straighten his hair, and put on a little make up. It wasn't for any particular reason, just partly because two days of driving had made him feel a little shabby, and he wanted to feel special again. The look on Mick's face was worth all of the time and effort.

Joey was barely even aware of the other people in the room. The admiration he felt from Mick made him feel as though he was walking on air. He hoped he wasn't blushing as he bent down to shove his dirty clothes back into his suitcase.

“Are you guys coming out?” Corey asked suddenly. Joey looked up to see the three other men who were sharing their room standing by the door.

“Where are you going?” Joey asked.

“There's a bar across the street. It's probably full of rednecks and cowboys but we thought we'd take a look.”

Joey glanced over at Mick in a silent question. The guitarist just shrugged, as if to say, “Your call”. Hoping that he would decide to come out as well, Joey nodded. “Sure.”

To his relief, Mick indicated his intent to go and stood up too. He'd gotten changed, which effectively meant changing from one football shirt to another. Joey could smell his aftershave and it made his legs weak, which was probably the point. They walked together behind the others, silently, but close enough for Joey to feel intensely special. It was cool out, and Joey realised he'd forgotten his jacket when they were halfway across the car park. So had Mick, though the guitarist showed no signs of being chilled. It was only a short distance and Joey figured he'd soon be warm enough at the bar.

Corey was just about spot on in his prediction of the regulars of the bar. The band all felt quite out of place as they walked in, and the patrons stared. Joey walked just a little closer to Mick as the atmosphere darkened slightly. Mick glanced over at him in concern, but as he was too busy looking around in horror he didn't notice. When the band showed no signs of intimidation (apart from Joey) and didn't just turn around and walk back out again, the locals started to return to their beers and pool games.

The nine men found a few empty tables at the back of the bar and took seats. Shawn offered to get the first round and Sid and Chris went with him to help carry the drinks. Joey sat next to Mick, feeling even smaller now that he was sitting down. For the first time that evening he regretted putting on make-up. He didn't think the locals would understand. He wished he'd thought to wash it off.

“You ok?” Mick asked Joey, concerned at the terrified look on his face.

“Uh, yeah,” Joey replied, his voice shaky. He felt Mick rub his thigh in sympathy under the table, and though he knew the other man was just trying to be supportive he couldn't help the tingle that spread up his spine. The others returned with the drinks and Joey felt a little better now that he had something to do with his hands. He sipped at his beer, unable to stop looking around in curiosity. The regulars stared right back, abject fascination on their faces, and it made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

He passed from one face to another, too nervous to stare for too long. He'd thought he'd seen all manner of hicks in Iowa, but this was something else. Soon though, he was drawn into the conversation that had started at their table. They were just talking about music, but it was enough for Joey to forget about where they were. It wasn't until after a particularly animated conversation about percussion that he realised he needed to use the bathroom. He slid his glass onto the table and stood up. Mick looked at him and he tilted his head towards the restrooms. Mick nodded in understanding.

Joey had only made it 3 paces from the table when the wolf whistles and catcalling started. The band fell silent in shock and Joey stood awkwardly like a deer in headlights. He couldn't figure out if they were teasing or genuine, but one thing was for sure: it wasn't making him feel good. He looked at the table of men who were the biggest culprits and it only made them call louder. It shocked him into action and he stumbled towards the bathrooms. And when he pushed through the door to the men’s toilets, the catcalling and wolf-whistling stopped as abruptly as a light-switch being thrown.

With a growing sense of dread, Mick realised they had honestly thought Joey was a girl. And he felt even more worried when he realised the bar was completely devoid of females. It was silent now, half the patrons sitting there with their mouths open. Mick wished they'd never come. Around the table, the others all looked as though their expressions had been carved in stone.

Inside the bathroom, Joey finished quickly and washed his hands. He looked at himself in the mirror, annoyed at the red flush on his cheeks. He thought about taking the makeup off, but figured it would only make things worse. He didn't want to walk back into the bar. He'd had that same sinking feeling as the others when he realised they thought he was a chick. Normally, he would have appreciated that, but right now it was the last thing he wanted. He was wondering if he could get away with staying in the bathroom for the rest of the night when the door opened. He was struck with fear at first, terrified it was a regular. But he sighed with relief when Mick stepped in.

“You ok?” he asked quietly, noting how shaky Joey was. He came closer to give him a hug. Joey just sighed, and held onto him tight.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice trembling. “They thought I was a girl, didn't they?”

Mick just nodded. “And a pretty one,” he said with a smile. Despite his nervousness, Joey managed to smile back as well.

“You ok to go back out there?” Mick asked. “Or we can stay in here for a little longer until you're ready.” Joey realised then that Mick had only come in for him. It made him feel better than he could ever put into words.

“Um, yeah. Get it over with. You'll be with me, right?” His voice rose, but he didn't care.

“Yeah. I'll be right next to you.”

Joey nodded his head. “Thank you.”

Mick went first. He pushed through the door, and Joey followed after a quick internal battle. He kept his head down until he reached the table, where the others shot him sympathetic glances but thankfully didn't say anything. Craig started up a conversation about football, which Joey realised was just to get the attention off of him because he knew how much Craig hated football. He was immensely grateful, and even more so for the mug of beer Shawn handed to him. He desperately needed it.

He was too shy to look around at the locals again. He could feel their stares on his back though, and thought they were probably all whispering and talking about him. About that strange kid with the makeup and the pretty face. He'd heard it all before. He was beginning to wish he'd stayed at the motel, and wondered how long the guys wanted to stay.

He sighed with relief when Shawn indicated they ought to leave after they'd finished their drinks. He made an excuse about needing to get a good night’s sleep before the last day of driving, but Joey knew he just wanted to get them out of there because of him. Half of him was bad about making them leave, especially because he knew they would have otherwise stayed there ‘til nearly last call. The other half was pleased at the chance to leave without having to walk out on his own, which would have just told the locals they'd gotten to him. At least the others didn't seem too miffed about having to go. He was relieved to see some of them drown their glasses quicker than they normally would have, which told him they were ok with leaving and wanted to get out of there. He really did have great friends.

Corey finished his glass just half a second after Paul. It was the cue for them to stand up, and Jim tossed a few notes onto the table. The entire bar was staring at them now, and Joey stuck close to Mick. As they started to walk out, they passed the table that had been the nosiest.

One of them spoke, and Joey knew he was saying it just loud enough for him to hear. “Pretty little thing, ain't he? Wonder how much he charges.”

Joey wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. He wasn't a slut, he never slept around, and it was mortifyingly embarrassing to be accused of it, in front of a room full of people. He saw Mick come up beside him to face the table.

“He's not a whore. I imagine the only one who gets paid for sex around here would be you,” he said, his voice simmering with barely contained anger. The insult brightened Joey up, especially when he saw the face of his accuser burn with shame. It was what happened next though, that literally took his breath away.

Mick turned to face him, and the look on his face shocked him. It was as if Joey was the only thing that mattered in the world and he suddenly realised just how much Mick cared for him. Then, Mick was taking him into his arms and they were kissing, not a brief peck on the lips but a deep, passionate kiss that made him turn to jello. It was hardly brief either, as if time had stopped. He found the inclination to wrap his arms around Mick, and for a brief second he thought they probably looked stupid, him being so tiny and Mick so tall, but it didn't matter, none of it did.

And then he was panting for breath, looking up at Mick who was smiling at him, and it was contagious and he had to smile too. All that bullshit, and those comments, he didn't care about now. The others were all smiling too, happy for them. Mick took his hand and they walked out, and Joey didn't even need to look around to see the looks on the faces of the regulars. He knew they'd won.

*

Mick didn't let go of his hand as they crossed over to the motel. The others had started to chat amongst themselves, just quietly at first. No one said anything to them about the kiss, but Joey could tell from their grins they didn't have a problem. He and Mick walked in silence, but the truth was Joey didn't know what to say. A little part of him was worried that Mick had only done it to show up those men in the bar, but there was so much passion in the kiss Joey wondered how he could possibly have faked it.

They waited as Corey unlocked the door to their room, and Mick held it open for Joey as they made their way in. The others had already collapsed onto their beds, exhausted. Mick and Joey sat on the single bed, their backs against the wall.

“What's the time?” Craig asked, sounding tired.

“Ummm... 11.36pm,” Mick said. He had an arm wrapped around Joey's shoulder, who was resting against him and looking as though he was ready to fall asleep at any moment.

“Ugh! That's it, I'm going to bed,” Corey announced. He dragged himself off his bed to brush his teeth in the bathroom. Craig and then Sid both followed suit.

Joey didn't want to move. He was sitting so close to Mick and didn't know how he'd be able to leave him. But then he couldn't leave it any longer, and shared a sad glance with Mick as he climbed off the bed to go wash his face and brush his teeth. Just as he was rinsing his mouth, Mick came into the bathroom and leant against the doorframe, just watching. Joey saw him in the mirror and smiled. Mick returned it when he saw him watching. Joey turned to wipe his face on his towel, and Mick came to stand beside him.

“You doing ok?” he asked quietly, so the others wouldn't hear.

Joey nodded, taking a little longer to dry his hands than he normally would. “Yeah. Thank you,” he added, finishing with the towel and hanging it on the rail to dry.

“It's ok,” Mick said. “They were jerks, Joey. I hope you didn't take them seriously.”

Joey shook his head, but Mick noticed his hesitation. He stepped forward to give him a hug. Joey collapsed into him, needing the comfort but not able to say. They stayed wrapped up in each other for a few minutes, taking solace in each other. When Mick loosened his grip and they broke their hold, Joey wasn't sure what to expect. He wanted to kiss Mick, but wasn't sure if he should. Mick sensed his indecision and leant forwards anyway. Their kiss was almost tentative, less sure than the kiss in the bar. But it was sweet and soft and Joey enjoyed it just as much. Mick smiled at him and Joey grinned back, so happy that Mick felt the same way as he did.

“Bedtime? You look exhausted,” Mick said quietly, stroking his cheek.

“Yeah,” Joey said, with no small relief at the thought of sleep. “I am tired.”

Mick kissed him softly on both cheeks, and whispered, “Good night” into his ear. Joey said the same, so full of good feelings he felt nearly ready to burst. He left Mick in the bathroom, sneaking quietly back into the room. The lights were off, apart from one bedside lamp next to Mick's bed. By its dim light, Joey stripped off his clothes until he was only in his boxers. He found a clean shirt and pulled it on before zipping up his suitcase.

Sid and Corey were already in the bed, and had left some room for him on the side. There wasn't a lot of room but it'd do. Even better, it was the side that faced Mick's bed. He slid under the covers carefully, trying not to disturb the others. The bed was warm, for which he was grateful. Corey had left him a pillow and he checked it was clean before laying his head on it. He was tired, and it felt nice to be able to stretch out with the sweet thought of sleep waiting for him. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was Mick laying a kiss on his cheek and whispering, “Sleep well” into his ear.

*

For some reason, he was on the roof of the van, clinging tightly. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten up there or why. Shawn was speeding, the van lurching wildly from side to side as he avoided the potholes in the road. They were driving on the wrong side too, and they barely missed the oncoming cars and trucks by mere millimetres. Corey and Sid were inside the van, singing loudly, and it was the worst noise he'd ever heard. He heard Mick call out to him suddenly. He was only just holding on, and as he turned to see where Mick was he lost his grip and realised he was falling....

THUNK! He landed heavily on the ground, shocking himself awake. He was on the floor of the motel, freezing and sore. In the midst of sleep he'd forgotten there wasn't as much room as he normally had and he had rolled over into oblivion.

“Joey?” Mick's voice came quietly out of the dark. “Is that you?”

The bedside light flared. Joey turned his head to see Mick sitting up in his bed, staring at him. Then he saw him grin and chuckle. “What are you doing down there?” he asked light heartedly. He tossed the covers away and got out of bed to kneel beside Joey.  
“Come on.” He offered his hand to Joey who took it gratefully. Mick pulled him to his feet.  
“Look, no wonder you fell off. Corey's practically shoved you off.”

Joey looked at the bed. Corey was laying where he was, and he realised now it was probably Corey who'd pushed him out. He couldn't help but laugh, albeit quietly.  
“Bastard,” he muttered.

“Do you want to stick his hand in a cup of water?” Mick said, in all seriousness.

Joey's face lit up at the thought. “Yeah! Oh, maybe if Sid wasn't in there too.”

“Good point,” Mick said. “Maybe in the morning then. Come. Stay with me tonight.”

Joey kept his sudden happiness tucked safely inside. He just nodded, and followed Mick over to his bed. His stomach was tight with anticipation, wanting so badly to just lie next to him. The guitarist climbed under the covers first, and turned so he was facing Joey, leaving as much room as he could. Joey slid in beside him. Mick reached behind him to switch off the light and the room was plunged into darkness once more.

Joey felt Mick's hand on his chest, encouraging him to lie down. Joey did, and then felt Mick shuffle closer to him and lay his head on the pillow. Mick draped his hand over his waist casually, and Joey let his hand rest on Mick's.

“Are you comfortable?” Mick asked quietly.

“Yeah. Very,” Joey whispered. “Thanks.”

His eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the dark, so when he felt Mick's lips on his it was almost a shock. He relaxed quickly though, giving into the kiss. They lay there for a while, just kissing, hands roaming over each other's bodies. And when they finally fell asleep, tired after the day's long journey, Joey was wrapped in Mick's arms, buried against his chest.

*

Corey's alarm clock woke everyone up at 8 o'clock the next morning. Amidst the dull grogginess of morning, Corey and Sid didn't even notice that Joey had abandoned their bed until they saw him tucked up in Mick's arms. The two were awake, just lying there savouring the moment for as long as they could.

Joey smiled when he saw Corey's surprised face. “You pushed me out of bed, Corey, so I found somewhere else to sleep.” Mick laughed at the even more surprised look on Sid's face.

“Oh. Sorry Jo,” Corey said, his voice betraying his shock at finding the two together. But really, he thought to himself, after their performance in the bar last night it should have come as no surprise. He decided to stop staring, and tore his eyes away. He thought a shower was in order. Craig busied himself dressing and Sid went outside for a smoke, and Mick decided to take advantage of the short period of privacy.

He reached over to kiss Joey gently, his hand stroking the soft skin of his cheek. The kiss was slow and tender, and they both lost themselves in the moment. Even when Corey came into the room and said the vans were leaving in 15 minutes it was nearly impossible for them to separate from each other. Joey reluctantly slid out of bed, catching a sudden, relieved look on Corey's face. It took him a few moments to realise that Corey was thankful that he was dressed. He shot him a grin but didn't say anything. Corey had the grace to look humbled.

Joey threw on his clothes from last night and shoved all of his belongings back into his suitcase. Mick had dressed as well and together they walked out to the vans. The group was still waiting on Jim and Chris, so Mick and Joey had a few moments to sit down together after stowing their luggage.

“You know, amongst all this... _us_ ,” Mick elaborated, “I'd forgotten that today we’re gonna be arriving in Malibu.”

Joey started. It had slipped his mind too, despite the fact it was the reason for the trip. “Shit....” he breathed. “I forgot too. What do you think it's going to be like?”

“I honestly have no idea. But I guess that's not a bad thing, is it? Not knowing what's coming, and not worrying.”

“Until it hits you,” Joey mused.

“Until it hits you!” Mick agreed. “I do know one thing though.”

“Yeah? And what's that?”

“You're gonna blow Ross away,” Mick said quietly, with a smile.

Joey blushed. He was lost for words, which didn't happen often. Mick chuckled when he saw the red flush rise in his cheeks. He leant forward to kiss the suddenly shy drummer on his forehead. Before Joey could say anything in response, Jim and Chris finally appeared with their bags in tow.

“It looks like we're ready to go,” Mick said, a little disappointed they couldn't spend a bit more time together away from the others. Joey just smiled at him and rose from the bench, waiting for Mick to join him. They walked slowly over the van, hand in hand.

*

5 minutes later, the van was turning onto the highway, destined for California. Joey had never been there before so it was an exciting experience, and Mick, who had, laughed at his eagerness.

“It's going to be several hours before we even see signs for Los Angeles, you know that, right?” he said to Joey, grinning.

“Yeah, I know! It's just.... oh, I dunno really. This is the biggest thing that's ever happened to me, you know? This... the recording deal... and you....” he added quietly, sitting still again and blushing. Mick smiled, understanding how he was feeling. He pulled Joey up onto his lap, and the drummer buried his head into his neck, shy again. Mick was stroking his back and kissing his forehead, and it was incredibly comforting.

There was no sound in the van other than the steady pounding of road beneath wheels. Mick watched the road signs flash past in burst of colour, but his eyes didn't focus on the white writing. LA would appear when it was time. He was happy to sit back with Joey snuggled up to him, and think about closing his eyes and resting. The hours stretched out ahead of them and they had all the time in the world just to enjoy the peace and solitude. For, of course, when they finally reached Malibu, it would be a different situation. There would be months of unrelenting, punishing practice and recording, and then just as suddenly they would be thrust back into their old life, to go back to the gas stations and porn shops and wait, and wait....

And even then, would it all have been worth it? Would they be able to even sell their album? Would anybody connect and understand what they were all about? Or would their album be consigned to linger on the shelf, glanced at occasionally and then tossed back into the pile? It was a fate he didn't want to think about, but in the end, no one knew. That was the beauty of it.

Joey relaxed in his arms. He'd finally fallen asleep. Mick's body was fighting him, crying out for sleep. And here, where the beating of wheel on road was the only sound and the landscape changed from county to county, he let his eyes close, and his mind drift away.


End file.
